


unmask

by Suicix



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Pre-Slash, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:25:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cody's beginning to doubt whether finally removing his mask was a good idea. His reason for ultimately getting rid of it might have had something to do with Wade, though. Maybe.</p><p>Set Survivor Series 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unmask

**Author's Note:**

> [hollers @ [this gif](http://25.media.tumblr.com/d038c0640815906c53da5d18832ed614/tumblr_mwpvbjtSl21r3j80ko4_r2_250.gif)]
> 
> I found the very beginnings of this in an old notebook from early 2014 and decided to actually finish, though I changed it slightly. I think I intended it to just be gen, but it turned into some pre-slash instead. Or, probable pre-slash.
> 
> I didn't actually watch WWE properly in 2011, so I don't know if everything in this that is meant to comply with canon actually does - but it is fanfic, after all.

Ugly. Hideous. Goddamn grotesque. Who the hell is Cody kidding? He shouldn’t have taken the mask off last week; even though his face has healed he still feels exposed and disfigured, as if the moment he leaves gorilla later and makes his entrance, the whole of Madison Square Garden and everyone watching the pay-per-view across the world is going to burst into fits of hysterical laughter – all of it directed at him.

He runs a hand across his face. _He_ deserves a paper bag over his head right now.

Cody takes a glance at the championship belt laid pride of place on the table to the side of him. At least he won’t have to defend the Intercontinental Championship tonight; in his current mindset he doesn’t think he’d be able to stomach any kind of singles match at all.

What he _does_ have, however, is the impromptu traditional Survivor Series match. When it was first announced he was half hoping he could just stick around on the apron, not getting tagged in, only entering the match if he absolutely had to. But even that means that he has to be there, has to make an entrance, has to be seen and broadcast live on God knows how many screens around the world.

He should say he’s sick, take the night off, ask someone to fill in for him. He should just disappear so he doesn’t have to face anyone to get out of the match. That sounds like the best option, actually.

There’s no chance to do that, though: the door creaks open and he’s not alone in the room anymore. OK, it isn’t exactly a private locker room, so there’s no real reason to be annoyed. Even so, he’d still rather no-one sees him like this.

“Alright?” The voice is unmistakable. Cody turns to face the speaker, still covering his face with a hand. One of his teammates tonight – the _captain_ of the team tonight. Wade steps further into the room. “You ready for the match? We’re on third, after the Divas with Ziggler’s title match before that. Hope he wins, or I may have to find someone else to take his place.”

“Might as well start trying to find someone to take my place too while you’re at it,” Cody mumbles from behind his hand. He’s surprised when Wade’s face falls.

“What? No, Cody, the team needs you. _I_ need you. Why on Earth do you think you’re not going to be in the match?” He moves closer to Cody, attempting to gently prise the younger man’s hand away from his face. Cody pulls away from him, bringing his other hand up to hide himself too. “Are–are you OK?”

There isn’t much Cody can say without feeling a fool. He feels like one regardless, just peering out at Wade through his fingers. Wade’s going to laugh at him, surely. Wade’s going to tell him he’s being stupid and to get a fucking grip.

“Cody, please. How can we be part of an effective team if you won’t tell me what’s bothering you?”

It’s true, though Cody doesn’t want to be part of any team right now, doesn’t want to do anything but perhaps fold himself up to the smallest he can be or get swallowed up by a deep, dark hole into non-existence. His eyes unwittingly travel to where his belt lies on the table – to where his mask is set beside it.

Wade’s gaze follows.

“Is it... is it that? Your whole mask thing?” He seems to take Cody’s silence as a yes. “You don’t need to wear a mask, Rhodes, trust me.”

“Do,” Cody mutters. He still hasn’t moved his hands from his face. “Do need to wear a mask.”

“Well. I guess maybe I should wear one too, then.” Wade runs a finger down the length of his own nose. “Look at this! More broken than your nose ever was. If I can go out there looking like this, then I’m sure you’ll be able to–” He stops when he realises it probably hasn’t done much to help. “OK. I’m not gonna force you not to wear your mask. I’m not even going to force you to be in the match if you don’t want to, even though I’ll be very upset if you aren’t there. There is a reason you were the first person I asked to be on my team, y’know. I reckon we could survive, you and me. We could win.”

Wade sounds so hopeful; it brings a weak smile from Cody too. Maybe they can. He lets a hand slowly drift from his face so it rakes through his hair instead, feeling just the slightest bit more comfortable with himself. But not just with himself, around someone else as well. Around _Wade_.

“Plus you’ve got a good face, mate. It just goes wasted if you cover it up.”

Cody doesn’t know how much of Wade’s smirk he’s imagining. He drops his other hand from his face to get a better look and – _oh_. He isn’t imagining anything at all. One look back in the mirror shows a burning beetroot face staring back at him (and hopefully his blush isn’t as visible to Wade as it is in the mirror). But now, it’s a face he doesn’t feel quite so ashamed of. He’s obviously not back to the days of _Dashing Cody Rhodes_ just yet, but it’s a small step. There might be the possibility of a mask-less Cody tonight. Maybe.

“Right, I better go find the rest of the team, make sure everyone’s here, etcetera. We’ll be having a strategy discussion in one of the other locker rooms before the show starts. I... I hope I’ll see you there, mask or no mask. Whatever you decide.”

Cody decides. He’s the first one there when the team meets to talk strategy. Wade beams at him, looking a little surprised that he’s there.

“You feeling a bit better now?

He makes no mention of Cody’s lack of mask. And rather wisely, too, perhaps realising that Cody wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about it. The younger man just nods and smiles back in response.

“Excellent. Right – we all here, then?”

By now, the others have arrived. Wade speaks directly to everyone, clearly knowledgeable of what the different teammates’ strengths are and how they can be used to dismantle their opponents. Cody grows more confident the more Wade talks: _they can do this._

When he at last turns his attention to Cody, he positively glows – though Cody thinks that could perhaps be wishful thinking on his part.

But by the time Ziggler, Hunico, and Swagger have shuffled off elsewhere, that spark seems to have diminished a little. Wade takes a deep breath – it appears he may be the nervous one now.

“I just hope that’s enough. I don’t think I’ll live it down if I–if _we_ lose.”

Cody knows he has to be the source of support. It’s only right, after all. Without Wade, he’d probably still be in that locker room, hoping he’d be able to stay there, or trying to hide himself somewhere in the arena where no-one could find him before the end of the show or his match at least. If he had emerged, it would have been with a mask on his face.

“You’ve been a leader before, Wade. I... I have faith in you.”

“Yeah, well, so has Orton. And I’m pretty sure he’s had a lot more success than I have–”

“So who’s someone who’d happen to know about that success with Legacy, with the way he does things? Me.”

Wade’s face lights up at that. “You would, wouldn’t you? I’d actually forgotten about that. Good. This is... this is really good.”

Cody frowns a little. He thinks Wade would have known that, that it would be a key reason why he selected Cody for a team against Orton in the first place.

“What, so that _wasn’t_ the reason I was the first person you asked to be on the team?” He can’t help but ask that – it seems like the most viable reason.

Wade blinks at him. There’s a slight pause, as if his true motive for doing so was something completely different. “I... I think you’re a great wrestler. I mean, you’re the Intercontinental Champion! And...” Cody thinks he catches the older man redden slightly. “I’m just – I’m really glad you’re here. We’re gonna do it, yeah? We’ll survive, even if it ends up just the two of us against all five of them.”

And survive they do.

It’s mostly a blur for Cody when the match ends – he did just get RKO’d into the mat as a distraction to let Wade eliminate Randy, after all. There’s the crowd, but there’s also Wade’s arm slung over his shoulder to keep him steady, Wade’s hand clapping him on the chest as a well done, Wade’s voice in his ear reinforcing to him that _they did it, they did it and they did it **together**._

Cody just lets his arm wrap around Wade’s side, and hopes it says everything he needs it to.


End file.
